But my emotions seethe like a stormy ocean. I need to control myself before I say or do something stupid, like taking this out on Yuna.
She peers up at me with a searching expression, like a puppy who isn’t sure if she did something wrong or not. And that helps me tighten the reins on my feelings.
“I didn’t know how to tell you,” she says finally. “I’m just shocked that she decided to contact you after I made the recording.”
“Why? She didn’t know I might know.”
Yuna sighs. “Actually, she probably suspected. I told Ella off. She acted like she didn’t know who I was for sure, but she must have recalled later. She can’t be that dumb.”
“Oh, you’d be surprised.” I drag in a
ir, then let out a long sigh. The shock from hearing the recording is turning into a resolve never to get fucked over again. “Thanks for letting me know. And let me take care of Chantel,” I say, doing my best to sound gentle. “Can you send me the recording?”
“Sure.”
She sends me the audio file. I stare at it. It’s amazing how something so small and insubstantial can ruin a bond.
Not ruin. The bond that I thought was there was fake. It never really existed, so nothing has been ruined.
Damn it. I’ve been an easy mark.
I forward the file to Chantel via text, then block her. That done, I text my accountant.
–Me: Stop all funding going to Chantel Winters immediately. Freeze every account she’s been using that’s under my control. And make sure she can’t use any of my credit cards.
All of her cards are mine. She’s on them as an authorized user. A moment later, a response arrives.
–Shawn: What about her house? The lease is under your name.
–Me: Tell the landlord I need to end the lease effective immediately. Are the utilities under my name?
–Shawn: Yes. You’ve been getting invoices for them.
–Me: Cut them off.
She won’t be happy without water or power. But I’m far beyond giving a fuck.
–Me: If she tries to contact you, don’t engage with her.
–Shawn: Understood.
If he’s curious, he doesn’t ask. But then he usually doesn’t offer an opinion or express curiosity unless it’s to advise me on how to maximize tax deductions.
I put my phone down. It pisses me off that this is the best I can do. Yuna looks at me with concern.
“Are you all right?”
Normally, my answer would be something along the lines of “I’m fine.” But I don’t want to lie to Yuna. “Not really.”
She squeezes my hand silently. After a moment, she goes to the piano and starts playing the Schubert Impromptu I love so much, the notes flowing out of the huge instrument with the ease of water in a summer stream.
I watch her play, surrounded by the sun. She seems to know exactly what I need without my having to tell her. And she gives it to me without asking anything in return.
And I’m starting to feel at peace. This must be how it feels to be part of her inner circle.
What Chantel said in the recording stung, but I’m not going to let it affect me. Our relationship, yes, but not me. I’m not the little boy who was scared and needed somebody so desperately that he couldn’t discern who truly cared for him and who was going to use him. I have my own friends, my own success. And Yuna.
When Yuna’s done with the piece, she starts another one, a Chopin waltz she played for me some time ago. The melody calms me. Everything she plays is special because she’s doing it just for me.